A reunion with Jamario Moon

A quick call – and Derrick Rowland, the player and coach who was as much a part of the Albany Patroons as its gold and kelly green color scheme – was on the other end of the phone.

“Chuck Miller, how you doing?”

“I’m doing great, Derrick. I heard Jamario Moon was in Albany.”

“He’s still here. We’re about to have lunch over at the Steuben Club. Come on over and join us.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, thanks.”

Background.

From 2005 until 2008, I was the team photographer for the Albany Patroons, the basketball team that returned to the Washington Avenue Armory for its games. I started taking pictures as a fan, and eventually the team asked me to provide my pictures to their website and to any marketing that they needed to accomplish.

It was an apprenticeship and an opportunity. I learned on the fly, understanding that my Nikon D70 and its kit lens were barely suitable for a high-speed sport like basketball, especially in a dimly-lit building like the Armory. But I persevered, and eventually I acquired different lenses and improved my craft.

It was during that first season that Jamario Moon, a tall, gangly point guard with a smile that could introduce one ear to the other, tried out for the Pats. One of the Patroons, Carl Mitchell, told me that he played alongside Jamario Moon in Georgia as a member of the WBA’s Rome Gladiators. “You gotta get pictures of him,” Carl said. “He dunks like Vince Carter.”

And sure enough, the first night he suited up for the Patroons, he came off the bench and had a decent night – including a couple of blocks and a fourth quarter rim-rocking dunk that brought a jaded crowd to its feet.

And of course, there was “That Dunk.”

I blogged about it in 2009, but suffice it to say that the shot I got of Jamario Moon flying through the air to slam the ball – it was amazing, let me tell you true.

I told Derrick Rowland I would be at the Steuben Club in ten minutes, I made it there in five. As I arrived, another member of the Albany Patroons extended family – Armory maintenance worker Robert Davis – arrived as well.

And there he was. Sitting comfortably in one of the Steuben Club’s outdoor metal chairs, enjoying his return to the Capital District – was NBA star Jamario Moon.

Handshakes and hugs.

The five of us – Robert Davis, Derrick Rowland, J-Moon, J-Moon’s nephew who came all the way up from Alabama with his uncle, and me – we sat and ordered food and reminisced about everything. It was fantastic.

We talked about the old days, the chilly nights at the Armory and the crazy teammates and opponents. And a few minutes later, another Patroon from the past – Lucious Jordan – showed up. He only stayed for a few minutes, but it was great to see him as well.

“Your uncle once blocked nine shots in a single game in the Armory,” I recalled for J-Moon’s nephew.

“Yeah,” added Derrick Rowland, who was the assistant coach during Jamario’s tenure with the Patroons. “He was one block shy of a triple double.”

“I know,” J-Moon beamed. “They couldn’t get that ball in there, I swatted away everything that day. That was fun.”

We reminisced about the whereabouts of former Patroons from the 2005-2007 seasons, when J-Moon was part of the team.

“I saw TJ Thompson and his wife Ilima last year at a basketball tournament in Boston,” I recalled.

“Yeah, TJ and I still keep in touch,” J-Moon replied. “Didn’t Carl Mitchell play up in Canada in that league you work for now?”

“He did,” I said. “He was with the Quebec Kebs for about five games, but things didn’t work out.”

We also shared some stories about John Strickland, and J-Moon re-enacted for his nephew some of Strick’s most famous moves. “Strick would talk up and down the court,” J-Moon recalled, “and then if he scored any points, he would put his hands up to his eyes like binoculars and say, ‘I see dead people,'” and we loved it.”

“Yeah, he did that while he was up in Halifax with the PBL,” I added. “He was a major fan favorite up there. When he passed away, the team retired his number 45.”

Then, J-Moon showed me something on his cell phone. And for a man who played in the NBA, as a teammate of everyone from Shaquille O’Neal to Dwyane Wade, from Chris Bosh to LeBron James, from Baron Davis to Blake Griffin – he still had a photograph on his cell phone from years and years ago.

“I got it off an old website,” he smiled. “Can’t find a better copy of it.”

On his cell phone was a picture of That Dunk. There he is, flying through the air on a chilly January night during the Pats’ 2005-06 season. Carl Mitchell (32) is backing him up, while TJ Thompson (5) and Reggie Jessie (45) are watching. Meanwhile, Damien Dantzler (Dakota Wizards) looks like he’s about to cry. In the stands, just between TJ Thompson and Carl Mitchell, you can see Albany’s coaching staff – Micheal Ray Richardson at the far right, Derrick Rowland in the center and Brian Fruscio at left – watching in amazement.

Five years and a multi-million dollar NBA career later, he still had that picture. That got to me. It was the picture of That Dunk that inspired me to improve my skills as a photographer. If I could get a shot like that with a Nikon D70 that barely reached 1600 ISO and the kit lens that couldn’t expand wider than F/3.5, then maybe … just maybe … I could do something with this in camera the future.

In fact, if you want to go down Albany Patroons memory lane, here’s a slideshow of photos from that era.

“What do you tell people like Shaq and LeBron when you show them that picture?” I asked, knowing that the NBA’s photographers are some of the best sports shooters out there, and that they have equipment that could freeze a housefly’s wings in mid-flutter.

“I tell them this is a starmaker,” he smiled.

Wow. That was about 15 levels of awesome.

I promised him that the first chance I could, I would send him a better copy of That Dunk for his archives. And I asked him to pose for a picture with me.

He handed his cell phone to his nephew and we posed for a picture.

Chuck Miller with Jamario Moon, former Albany Patroons forward and current NBA superstar.

“I’ll be back up in the area later this summer,” said J-Moon. “I’ll call you.”

“Thanks,” I smiled.

We shook hands, and it felt like we were back in the Armory getting ready for another CBA matchup.

Straight up – there are so many people we pass on life’s journey, so many people who guide us and inspire us. Jamario Moon played for sixteen different basketball teams in the United States and abroad, just to get his chance in the NBA. And once he got there, he became a fan favorite and a roleplayer everywhere he went.

No, I could never dunk like J-Moon. Not in a thousand years. But his determination and dedication inspired me, and I’m sure it has inspired others as well.